《行尸走肉》" 'All You Zombies—' " by Robert A. Heinlein(3)
"You don't know what 'incredible' means!"
"So? Nothing astonishes me. I've always heard worse." He snorted again. "Want to bet the rest of the bottle?"
"I'll bet a full bottle." I placed one on the bar.
"Well---" I signaled my other bartender to handle the trade. We were at the far end, a single--stool space that I kept private by loading the bar top by it with jars of pickled eggs and other clutter. A few were at the other end watching the fights and somebody was playing the juke box---private as a bed where we were.
"Okay," he began, "to start with, I'm a bastard."
"No distinction around here," I said.
"I mean it," he snapped. "My parents weren't married."
"Still no distinction," I insisted. "Neither were mine."
"When---" He stopped, gave me the first warm look I ever saw on him. "You mean that?"
"I do. A one--hundred--percent bastard. In fact," I added, "no one in my family ever marries. All bastards."
"Oh, that." I showed it to him. "It just looks like a wedding ring; I wear it to keep women off." It is an antique I bought in 1985 from a fellow operative---he had fetched it from pre--Christian Crete. "The Worm Ouroboros... the World Snake that eats its own tail, forever without end. A symbol of the Great Paradox."
"So? Nothing astonishes me. I've always heard worse." He snorted again. "Want to bet the rest of the bottle?"
"I'll bet a full bottle." I placed one on the bar.
"Well---" I signaled my other bartender to handle the trade. We were at the far end, a single--stool space that I kept private by loading the bar top by it with jars of pickled eggs and other clutter. A few were at the other end watching the fights and somebody was playing the juke box---private as a bed where we were.
"Okay," he began, "to start with, I'm a bastard."
"No distinction around here," I said.
"I mean it," he snapped. "My parents weren't married."
"Still no distinction," I insisted. "Neither were mine."
"When---" He stopped, gave me the first warm look I ever saw on him. "You mean that?"
"I do. A one--hundred--percent bastard. In fact," I added, "no one in my family ever marries. All bastards."
"Oh, that." I showed it to him. "It just looks like a wedding ring; I wear it to keep women off." It is an antique I bought in 1985 from a fellow operative---he had fetched it from pre--Christian Crete. "The Worm Ouroboros... the World Snake that eats its own tail, forever without end. A symbol of the Great Paradox."
原耽车多肉双A